


Take whatever's left of your heart

by jijal



Category: BTOB
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jijal/pseuds/jijal
Summary: In which Changsub is a bad friend, and Eunkwang doesn't need him.
Relationships: Lee Changsub/Seo Eunkwang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Take whatever's left of your heart

At sixteen years old, they met for the first time. Changsub’s mother forced him to join the lame, loser choir turned band at his new high school, because he had somehow managed to spend his entire first year as a freshman without making any friends. His classmates were _fine_ , fine to hang out with during breaks or after gym class, but more often than not, all it came down to was five people pestering Changsub to let them copy his homework when he got to school in the morning, and at some point, he had enough. He decided to phase them out of his life before they had a chance to properly settle in, and not to waste any more energy on friendships he hardly got anything out of. He didn’t need them.

Needless to say, his mother started to worry when she found out, and his sister wouldn’t stop making fun of him for being an unlikeable loner. Not that he cared. He had his reasons, and she only knew half the story. But after a summer spent wasting away at home, playing video games all day long and until late at night, his mother sat him down for a sentimental talk. He assured her he was alright and made a half-assed promise to make more friends in the rest of the year, but she looked right through him, and before he knew it, lay out her plans to get him more involved in school life. Changsub wasn’t thrilled to have his meddling mother be so assertive, even if she only meant well, but somehow — and to this day, he doesn’t know how — she made him sign up for their school band, saying that he had too much talent to let it go to waste.

Changsub hated to admit to himself how much he liked it, and how much he enjoyed the presence of the lead singer hyung with the clear, angelic voice and a smile too bright and genuine.

He welcomed Changsub with open arms and an open mind, introducing him to the rest of the band members and showing him around their practice room. His eyes lit up every time Changsub spoke, hanging onto his every word, and he’d rest his hand on Changsub’s shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do so. He made him feel more comfortable than Changsub had ever felt at school, sharing his lunch with him after classes and telling him all about his favourite video games, even when Changsub didn’t ask. He made it ridiculously easy to loosen up, and to find a kind of friend in him that Changsub never had. A friend he’d be looking forward to seeing, and a friend he’d miss on the days he didn’t get to sing with him, or sit around with together and complain about homework.

Eunkwang had a lot of friends, and anyone who’d meet him would immediately know why. He was kind, empathetic, and would go to the end of the world to make just about anyone happy. And, still, Changsub couldn’t help but think that what they had was different. It felt more important, more profound than any friendship he’d had; he needed Eunkwang in a way he hadn’t needed anyone else before. Slowly, quietly, Eunkwang had irreversibly become part of Changsub’s life, and Changsub was just as much part of Eunkwang’s.

At eighteen, Eunkwang told him about a girl he’d met at his part-time job. He was beaming, radiating, and he put the sun to shame, but Changsub couldn't bring himself to return the smile. _That’s great_ , he said, and, _I’m so happy for you_ , and maybe Eunkwang was simply up way too high to notice that Changsub’s words were empty, void of any sincerity. All he could do is listen to Eunkwang’s story about how they met, how they instantly _just clicked_ , and Changsub thinks he deserved a pat on the back simply for staying put and feigning interest, instead of making up a lie about an appointment he’d forgot about that would’ve allowed him to leave. Granted, Eunkwang probably wouldn’t have believed him, because Changsub doesn’t forget about things, ever, but he wouldn’t have called him out on his bluff, either.

No matter what way he looked at it, it hurt. And no matter how many times he told himself to get over it, he couldn’t.

At twenty, over iced coffee and buried under tens of books in the middle of August, Eunkwang mentioned he’d be moving in with his girlfriend in a few month’s time, and Changsub’s face fell, and the first thing that slipped past his lips was, _are you out of your mind?_

This time, Eunkwang’s smile faded, and Changsub had no one to blame but himself. Yes, _he didn't mean to_ —, and _all he wanted was_ —, but it didn't matter. The look on Eunkwang’s face was on him, for not being able to put Eunkwang’s happiness before his own, and it took Changsub every ounce of fragile maturity he could muster to get over his own hurt ego, and apologise two days later. More than his old wounds being ripped open again, Changsub hated the thought of hurting Eunkwang. Because Eunkwang was too gentle, too soft for someone as brass as Changsub, and Changsub way too easily forgot about that.

At twenty-three, Changsub got a call so late in the evening, he got an uneasy feeling as he reached for his phone. He picked up, and did his best to not let the way his heart was beating in his throat show at the sound of Eunkwang’s shaky voice coming from the other end of the line. Eunkwang asked if he could stay at Changsub’s apartment for the night, and Changsub wished Eunkwang hadn’t felt like he even needed to ask.

He let him in, sat him down on the sofa and listened, and it saddened him to watch Eunkwang struggle for composure as he told him about the fight they’d had, about his own careless words in the heat of the moment. He didn’t mean anything of what he’d said, and Changsub assured him that she knew, and that he was allowed to mess up; it didn’t make him any less of a good person. He held him until he calmed down, and for the rest of the evening, he took care of Eunkwang as best he could. They ordered in food, and watched television for hours on end, and Changsub tried not to let his mind wander off, tried not to let himself think about how right it all felt. How it felt like this was the way things were supposed to be.

He didn’t know how long Eunkwang had been asleep by the time he noticed, but it kept him from saying anything he’d regret in the morning, let him pretend that this was the way things were. It wasn’t, and it never would be, but for a brief moment, it was enough.

At twenty-five, Eunkwang asked Changsub to sing at his wedding. He almost choked on whatever it was he was eating — he can’t remember what is was, anymore — and it gave him the perfect excuse not to answer right away. He should’ve seen it coming, really. He should’ve been prepared, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was nothing he could have done to take the news any better than he did.

He still vividly remembers the bright, happy smile on Eunkwang's face, that he didn't dare ruin again. Shoving aside every last bit of his own ugly feelings, all he managed to say was, _of course_ , and he tried to mask how much it pained him to do so. The tremble in his voice. The hesitation in his words. He might've done a shit job, but Eunkwang was polite enough to pretend he didn't, and ignored it.

At twenty-six, Changsub confessed.

Sat next to Eunkwang, sipping at his fifth beer of the night and staring up at the pitch-black night sky above them in silence, it should’ve been enough; getting the opportunity to sneak off with the lucky groom for a few moments of peace, away from the busy, busy atmosphere, the endless buzz of voices and music, entangled to the point where it was almost impossible to tell them apart.

It should’ve been enough, and he should’ve known that his best friend’s wedding day was the one day to keep his mouth shut.

But Changsub had little to lose.

His eyes fixed on his hands in his lap, restlessly fidgeting, he rose to speak. He wasn’t someone to ramble, and yet, that day, he noticed with horror that words didn’t come as easily as they usually did, refused to come out right no matter how hard he tried to sort through his thoughts, and he only realised how long he’d been talking, and talking, and talking in circles, when Eunkwang put a warm, soothing hand on his back, and Changsub faltered, crumbled, and let himself cry in his best friend’s arms.

Eunkwang said, _I’m sorry,_ and of course he did, and of course he was, but it wasn’t fair.

This is where he was supposed to say, _me too_.

And even though some part of Changsub knew better than to blindly hope for Eunkwang to feel the same, his heart was ripped in two. He heaved a sob, and Eunkwang pulled him close.

And, if anything, Changsub should have been sorry, too, even more so than Eunkwang, for ruining a night as magical and special, but he couldn’t force down the frustration bubbling up inside of him and coming to the surface, let alone apologise. He’d wasted too much time, too many years holding back, waiting for the right day and the right time, too caught up to let himself accept the fact that Eunkwang had already moved on, and there was no getting him back.

Now, he was gone for good, and as he was clasping Changsub’s hand, empathetic and warm and understanding, the metal of his ring pressing into Changsub’s skin was the painful reminder. Some part of him hated Eunkwang — for being happy, for finding love in someone else. For not needing Changsub like Changsub needed him.

After all this time, he still held so much resentment, and if, at least, he could’ve said that none of it was directed at Eunkwang, he could’ve forgiven himself. But he wasn’t that good of a friend, or that good of a person. And he’d never be able to accept Eunkwang’s happiness as part of his own, if he didn’t get to be part of Eunkwang’s.

After all this time, Changsub still needed him.

And after all this time, Eunkwang didn’t need him.

**Author's Note:**

> since a lot of people liked my last modern line fic and were asking for more, and there is just. an abundance of mature angst potential with these two, i decided to write them again... this is definitely not as light-hearted, but i hope whoever gave this a shot found it enjoyable to read.
> 
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated as they help me stay motivated (⁎⚈᷀᷁▿⚈᷀᷁⁎)
> 
> title from kaleidoscope by the script; [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jungsilhoon) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/9094) | [btob fic exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/btob_fic_exchange)


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